


Tailor Made

by Shoulder_Devil



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Banter, Costumes, Fluff, Gen, Trick or Treat 2018, Trick or Treat: Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-03 23:16:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16335107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shoulder_Devil/pseuds/Shoulder_Devil
Summary: Bashir asks Garak for help putting together a costume.Made for the Trick or Treat Exchange 2018





	Tailor Made

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WritLarge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritLarge/gifts).



“As much as I am enjoying your conversation, my dear doctor, I really must be returning to my shop.” Garak inclined his head to Dr. Bashir and collected his tray.

Bashir wiped his napkin across his mouth and dropped it to his plate. “Speaking of your shop, Mr Garak, that reminds me. I’ve been meaning to make an appointment with you.”

The ridges above Garak’s eyes shot up in delighted surprise. “Are you finally going to let me fit you for something more flattering than that drab Starfleet uniform?”

“Yes, I suppose I am.”

“Wonderful, absolutely, wonderful. What did you have in mind.”

“Well, I’d like to discuss possible options with you. Captain Sisko is helping Jake plan a costume party. I thought I knew what I was going to wear but Miles has flat out forbidden me from wearing anything from my holosuite programs.”

“Has he now?”

Bashir scrunched up his face and pitched his voice down in imitation of the Chief, “Your spy getup is a vintage style suit, Julian. That’s hardly what I’d call a costume.”

“I struggle to disagree with the man,” he mused, placing his tray in the replimat’s recycler. “You said a costume party?”

“I did.” The doctor cocked his head with a grin, sliding his tray into the slot. “Specifically a Halloween party. I’m told there will be traditional games, maybe even be bobbing for apples.”  
  
“I’m afraid I don’t know what that is.”

“You should come and find out for yourself!” Bashir clapped Garak on the back. “It is going to be a station wide event.”

“Perhaps I shall, doctor. Perhaps I shall. Now,” Garak beamed, extending a hand to allow the doctor to precede him from the replimat, “about that appointment. I have an opening this evening at 1900 hours.”

“Perfect, I’ll see you then.”

“Excellent.”

 

* * *

 

Garak made a final note then closed the lid on his handheld measurement scanner. “I believe I have all I need. Except-- “ He drew a quick breath and fixed Julian with a bright look, “have you given any more thought to what kind of ensemble I will be creating for you?” The only response he got was a shrug and indecisive sigh. Garak continued, “a tribble farmer? An ancient Romulan plague doctor? Something from one of Mr. Worf’s operas perhaps?

Bashir smiled but shook his head at all of the suggestions. “I was think something a bit more… I dunno, classic.”

“Classic, hm, let me think.” Garak tapped a finger to his lips and began to pace. “I take it you mean human classic. Something a bit more Earth based than what jumps to mind when I hear the word?”

“As much as I would love to go as Cardassian folk hero, I don’t really have the frame to pull off that kind of look.”

“Quite right. You do cut a dashing figure, doctor, but I’m afraid your shoulders would ruin the silhouette. And the neckline!” The tailor gasped in mock horror, “don’t get me started.”  

“I’m glad we’re in agreement,” Bashir chuckled.

“Do you trust me?”

“Should I?” Julian eyed him suspiciously, “you _are_ in the habit of insisting that I not trust anyone, least of all you.”

A proud smile lit up his features. “Generally that would be the case. However in matters of fashion, you should always trust your tailor.”

Bashir regarded the other man for a moment before nodding. “Very well then, Garak. I trust you.”

“Wonderful! Come to my shop at 1900 hours next Friday and I will have your costume ready and waiting.”

“That’s only one hour before the party, not much time to find something else if I don’t like your surprise.”

“That, my dear doctor, is where the trust comes in.”

“I suppose,” he agreed with a hint of suspicion.

“If you’re that worried you can always go as a tribble farmer as a last resort. I’m sure Mr. Worf would be overjoyed!”

Bashir coughed to disguise his sudden laughter, “I’m sure he would.”

“Don’t worry, Julian. I will make sure you are the most charming man at the party.”

 

* * *

 

“Right this way, doctor. Everything is in the center dressing room.”

Bashir opened to door to find the tailor had laid out a pair of burgundy slacks with a gold stripe embroidered down the side. Hung next to them was a hip length white jacket with military style gold detailing. Large, rope-fringed epaulets capped each shoulder while a matching gold rope draped across the chest and looped around one arm. The high collar was adorned with filigree picked out in gold thread. A matching gold belt and white gloves completed the ensemble.

“‘The most charming man at the party?’” Bashir quoted as he surveyed the outfit Garak had provided with a quirked eyebrow.

"Indeed! I have provided the princely garb to compliment your charming personality.” He turned to look more fully at the doctor. “Are you saying you don’t like it?”

“Not at all, Mr Garak. It’s wonderful, if a bit ostentatious.” Bashir shook his head and smiled in spite of himself.

“Precisely what a costume should be!”

“I suppose you’re right,” he agreed. He held up the jacket to admire the craftsmanship before turning back to Garak. “And what will you be wearing this evening?”

“Oh, it’s a surprise, but I will give you a hint.” He produced an apple from behind his back and held it out to the doctor with a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Could I interest you in a shiny, red apple, my prince?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Why yes, I *did* have Garak dress up Julian as a Disney prince. Why do you ask?


End file.
